Wrestling Leads To?
by broadwayKarkat69
Summary: So, I don't know if this is gonna end up smut. And my Dirk POV sucks ass, i know. SIGH I AM TOO USED TO BEING DAVE /LOUD ANGRY SCREAMING. Ahem. I shoulda done this in Jakes POV, but whatever. And NO, I'm NOT going to abandon my JohnDave, I swear. That's still ongoing, i just wanted this. Rated T for now, may change. owo enjoy and imma h until i run outta space here so hhhhh


"Muhahaha! I've got you now, Strider!" He grinned, rolling you over and pinning you tightly to the wet, lush grass. His legs squeezed tightly around your waist, and his hands gripped your wrists. Looking up, you could see very clearly the toned and defined muscles bulging in his arms.

"That you do, Jakey boy," You smirked softly, winking behind your anime shades. He flushed a light pink, shifting away from his awkward straddle and leaning back. Huffing, you flopped against the grass, folding your arms behind your head. "I still can't figure out how you keep beating me, man, I'm way stronger than you."

"Obviously not, my friend, or else you'd have beaten me by now. Unless, perchance, you're _letting _me win," he lay across your chest, folding his arms across it, and resting his head down. He seemed exhausted; you decided you'd let him keep believing he was winning via his own strength.

"Naw, man, you're definitely stronger than me in the wrestling aspect. I don't know if I'll ever beat you." Okay, that last bit was almost literally _dripping_ with sarcasm. And he could hear it, you could tell by the way he glared up at you. Jokingly, of course, but still…

"You're just full of it, mate. You're totally holding out on me. Come on, let's run a round where you don't hold back at _all, _okay?" Sighing, you shoved him off, and stood up, stretching your sore limbs.

"Are you sure?" You arched an eyebrow at him, helping him up.

"Quite positive!" He grinned, standing back in position. Well, alright, here we go…

He was down before he finished the word 'go.' Panting, he struggled beneath your strong grip, though he got nowhere with that. After a few more minutes, he realized how obviously futile that effort was, and finally gave up, panting heavily.

"Damn, Strider, that's… quite a lot you've been holding back. Why have you been restraining yourself so much, just to fight me?" He queried, trying to regain his composure. Which proved to be pretty tough, what with having his arms pinned, and someone holding his legs stiff and straight. You chuckled to yourself, willing away all the perverted thoughts that threatened to taint your mind.

"Well, I wanted you to think you actually had a chance at beating me. Maybe you'd think you could top me, or something. I dunno, I was just messin with ya," you smirk, loosening your grip on his arms somewhat.

"Well, that's no fair… I'd rather you didn't, so that I can make better progress, or get stronger, or whatever it is," he pouted, pulling his arms away and crossing them.

You snickered, crossing your arms and shaking your head. He was acting ridiculous, over a simple wrestling match. Too bad, too, because he looked much better panting and sweaty benea- woah, woah, woah, Strider, slow your roll right there. You shake your head, forcing those thoughts away. The last thing you need right now is a boner. Like, that is quite possibly the worst thing to happen. You would rather sit through a second holocaust, where Hitlers all wearin shades and shit, exterminating all the nerds, than have a boner right now and ruin this moment. You'd rather witness the war of the worlds, than ruin this. Rather break every pair of shades on this planet earth than ruin this moment. You chuckle again, not noticing his questioning look.

"Whats so funny, mate?" He propped himself up on his elbows, arching a curious eyebrow at you.

"Nothin important, man. Nothin worth talking about." Your eyes glint at him through the shades, though there was no way he could tell.

"Doesn't seem unimportant. You're laughing harder than Lil Cal right now, Dirk. Care to share the funny?"

"Sorry, babe. Save it for another day. Or," you winked. "Night." The look on his face was priceless. Totally worth the almost-slap. Totally.

"Dirk, oh my god!" He flushed bright red, trying to shove you off. "You were thinking about boners again, weren't you?"

You laughed shortly, re-adjusting your grip on the flustered englishmen beneath you. He continued to squirm, though, until again he was out of breath and had new beads of sweat dripping down his chin.

"Damn, ol chap, how DID you get so strong…?" He panted, sitting up slowly.

"Strife with my bro, every god damn day almost. It starts to work, you know?" He smirk, leaning in slightly closer to his face.

He blushed and leaned back down, nodding. God damn was he easy. You were totally having WAY too much fun with this. WAY too much fun. You're probably gonna get arrested by the fun police, for excessive amounts of fun. Yeah, that's what's gonna happen. That's it. You chuckle again, your shitty irony showing again. What can you say? You were raised by an asshole.

"Dirk, damn it, STOP THINKING ABOUT BONERS!" Jake cried, pulling you back down to earth.


End file.
